Page 26 of Defiant Beta

I don’t foresee any alphas in my future. “Sure. Can we talk about this later?” After this curfew kicks in, who knows when I’ll have another opportunity to get payback on a certain math professor?

“You’ll get in trouble,” she warns.

I back up. “Some trouble is worth it. Keep my seat warm.”

On my way out of the auditorium, I overheard a student say Mr. Vincent was covering a history lesson, so I have time to do some damage. I have a tiny bit of superglue left, and I’m curious about what he’ll do if he sits down and finds he can’t get back up again.

Smiling with malicious anticipation as I enter his empty room, I close the door behind me and pull the superglue from my bra. I’m twisting the lid off as I walk toward his chair when I hear footsteps heading down the hallway. They might pass this room, but what if it’s him?

I hurry to the back of the room and drop, scrunching myself behind a chair, willing whoever it is to walk past.

A door snicks open, and I quietly curse.

The footsteps are slow. Deliberate.

Just grab something from your desk and leave.

I mentally curse at the sound of a chair scraping the hardwood floor. Shit. He’s sitting down.

I give it a second, and very slowly, peer around the side of my chair, glaring at Professor Vincent sitting down at his desk. He’s not wearing the tweed today. A light blue shirt clings to strong forearms and the hard muscles of his shoulders.

Focus, Della.

What happened to that lesson he was supposed to be covering?

If I’d been one second faster, I would have superglued his butt to his chair and I’d have been laughing my way out of the door as he struggled to stand up.

He starts to look up, and I yank my head back.

The sound of a computer powering up is a blessing in disguise. If he’s busy doing something on his laptop, he won’t even know I’m here.

I start crawling toward the partially open door and hope he can’t see me. My red plaid skirt is way too short to be on my hands and knees.

I’m halfway there, practically home and dry.

“Miss Farrow, is there a reason you’re crawling across my classroom?”

I freeze at his mild question.

He’s guessing. I was as quiet as a mouse. He couldn’t have heard me.

I crawl forward.

A chair leg scrapes along the floor, and I halt.

Those same footsteps cross the room at the same unhurried pace as before. Professor Vincent closes the door, stands in front of it, and then turns to look directly at me.

“I asked you a question, Miss Farrow.”

I’m getting ready to lie when the tube of superglue I stuffed into my bra falls out right in front of him.

Chapter 9

Della

Dammit.

I stuff the superglue back into my shirt.

---